


Hear me, heal me

by Kjam



Category: The Witcher (TV), Wiedźmin | The Witcher - All Media Types, Wiedźmin | The Witcher Series - Andrzej Sapkowski
Genre: Angst, B. J. or before Jaskier, Canon Compliant, F/M, Healer! OFC, Healing, Hurt/Comfort, Injury Recovery, Mentions of Prostitution, No beta we die like stregobor should have, Sad Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia, Smut, Touch-Starved Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia, just a tiny bit
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-09
Updated: 2021-01-09
Packaged: 2021-03-13 12:01:47
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,236
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28653186
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kjam/pseuds/Kjam
Summary: Geralt gets bitten by a poisonous Basilisk during a contract, and he is out of healing potions. He resigns himself to his fate, so he is quite surprised when he does wake up. He is even more surprised when he finds himself in a company of a pretty healer, who knows suspiciously too much about witchers and their potions. Both of them carry their own wounds and are slow to trust, but while waiting for Geralt to heal a strange bond starts forming between them.
Relationships: Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia/Original Character(s), Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia/Original Female Character(s)
Comments: 5
Kudos: 26





	Hear me, heal me

When Geralt woke up he couldn’t open his eyes, That was the first bad sign. The second one was the pain exploding in his shoulder. It made it hard to remember what happened. There was a basilisk couple in the sewers, big fucking ones. The contract stated drowners, and he was stupid enough to believe it, so he was ill-prepared. He killed the male with Igni, but the female one managed to bite him before he pierced its neck with his sword. Then he crawled out of the sewer and found Roach. He spilled all his potion bottles on the grass with his shaking hands, and frantically searched for Golden Oriole, but there were only a few yellow drops of it on the bottom of the bottle. He was fucked. That was his last thought as he slipped into unconsciousness. And now, against all odds, he was awake and alive. He could hear the fire crackling beside him. Geralt forced his eyelids to open, and without moving his head, he looked around. He was in a small hut lit by a fireplace. It was filled with dried herbs, hanging from the ceiling. There was also a wooden table and an old-fashioned cabinet. He was laying on the only bed in the room. The door opened and Geralt closed his eye a moment too late.

”I see you are awake.”

He tried to say something, but his tongue felt like stone. The woman held a glass of water to his lips, which he greedily gulped down. He watched the woman leaning over him while he drank. She was in her early thirties with dark brown hair and blue eyes. She wasn’t exactly beautiful, but she was certainly pretty. 

”Better?”

”Roach” He rasped. ”My horse?”

”Fed and watered, safe in my barn. You had me worried, you slept for two whole days. How are you feeling?”

He touched his shoulder and winced.

”Like shit.”

”Well, you kinda deserve it, for how stupid you are. Going against a basilisk, without Golden Oriole? You are lucky I still had some.”

That didn’t add up. How on Earth did she know about potions and why was she helping a witcher? He wanted to ask, but his tongue wasn’t working.

”Sleep now. We will talk in the morning.”

The sun was high in the sky when he woke up, peeking through the little window. He tried to sit up, but pain panged into his side. As on cue, the door opens. The woman was carrying a basket, but dropped it at the sight of him and rushed to him.

”Lie down, for fucks sake. You are gonna pull your stitches. You have a nasty gash between your ribs, we don’t want the wound to open.”

When she was sure he wouldn’t move, she stood up and went over to the oven, scooping something out of a pot into a dish.

”I made you some soup. You slept over breakfast.”

She propped his head up and gave him the dish. It tasted really good, filled with pork and vegetables.

”I’m Delilah, and I’m a healer. I was coming home late from a patient when I found you, passed out beside your horse. You are lucky it stayed there, Roach, was it? I managed to put you on it’s back, I wouldn’t have been able to carry you, and even like this it was a matter of minutes and the poison would have taken you.”

Geralt humphed and ate another spoonful of soup. Then he suddenly remembered what was bothering him. The Golden Oriole.

”How do you know so much about witcher potions?”

”Well, don’t be rude. I just introduced myself. At least tell me who you are before you go on asking questions.”

”Geralt of Rivia.”

The Butcher of Blaviken. He didn’t add it, but he didn’t need to. Everyone knew about it. He expected the sour smell of fear, for her to flinch or retreat, but there was none of it. Even her voice stayed calm.

”Welcome to my house, Geralt of Rivia.”

After his initial shock about the lack of reaction wore down, he repeated his question.

”How do you know so much about witcher potions?”

Delilah stood up, taking the dish from him.

”Well, aren’t you a curious one? If you must know, I learned it from a witcher.”

Witchers weren’t supposed to teach humans about their potions and secrets. It would be dangerous if these secrets got out, it could be used against them. Before he could ask her about the witcher who betrayed his kind by giving out such important information, she was leaning above him again, with a vile in hand.

”Drink three sips of this.”

When he didn’t move to do so, she let out a frustrated sigh.

”It’s just Swallow. You need it to heal more quickly. I get it that you don’t know me, but we will need a level of trust if you are to stay here.”

Geralt smelt it and hesitantly took a sip. It tasted and smelt like Swallow, so he drank it. 

”Good. I’ll go tend to the goats and your horse. Just shout if you need anything, I’ll be in the barn.”

When he was sure she had left he tried to sit up again. He managed to, even though his side hurt like hell. He even took a few hesitant steps, before he had to return to bed if he didn’t want her to find him on the floor. Fuck. This wasn’t good. She might be on her way to alert the villagers about who, exactly, her guest was. Or worse, a mage. Maybe Geralt was paranoid, but he hadn’t experienced selfless kindness often from humans even before he came the Butcher of Blaviken, and almost none after. Maybe, if it was really necessary he could get to Roach and ride for a while, but he was sure he couldn’t fight. He let out a frustrated sigh. It would be just his shitty luck to die by angry villagers after he survived a poisonous bite. He fell back on the bed and closed his eyes. He tried to concentrate on the sounds coming from outside, listening for angry shouting, but at some point, he must have dozed off. When he woke up Delilah still wasn’t in the room, but there was a plate on the chair next to the bed with some bread and cheese. He noticed a slip of paper right next to it.

_”I went to the village to visit some of my patients. I left you some food and there is a book under the plate if you are interested. I don’t know when I’ll be back.”_

Geralt ate the food, hoping it wasn’t poisoned, then opened the book. It was about legend and heroics, something Eskel would have loved, but Geralt didn't believe in fairy tales. He sat up and started meditating. He slipped out of his trance when he heard the door open. It was only Delilah, no angry mob, but she smelled of blood. 

”You are bleeding.”

”Oh, it’s not me. I just helped a woman gave birth. A healthy baby girl came a bit earlier than she should have, but there were no complications. I will wash off in a minute.”

"I'm way too tired to cook." She said as she slammed down a plate of dried meat beside him.

She quickly cleaned herself up and laid down, her breath evening out within minutes. Geralt noticed that she was sleeping on a cot made out of hay and blankets: she gave up the only bed in the room to him. The next day he was feeling considerably better. Delilah checked his wounds, which were already knitted together, and rubbed some herbal mixture on them, then gave permission to Geralt to leave the bed. He accompanied her to the barn, where Roach greeted him with an excited nicker. He rubbed her neck as she searched for apples in his pocket.

”She really loves you, that horse. Was all restless until you came out.”

”I probably give her too many apples.”

Delilah smiled brightly at him as she sat down to milk the goats. Geralt looked outside, dark clouds were hiding the sun, and a cold wind was blowing. He should be on his way to Kaer Morhen. He planned to go after the basilisk contract, so he could get up the hill before it started snowing. Guess that’s too late now. But he had to get going soon, or the road would be all snowed up, and he wanted to spend the winter with his brothers. He voiced his concerns to Delilah.

”I have to be on my way soon if I want to get to the place I usually winter at.”

”I would be calmer if you waited for another few days. I don’t want my time getting wasted on you, just for you to fall off your horse at the next village.”

She grabbed the buckets full of milk and motioned with her head towards the house.

”I’m done with the goats, let’s go back inside”

Geralt watched her pouring the milk into smaller jars and covering them with linen clothes. Then she took out a big bucket of corn.

”I need to grind these. You can help.”

It felt awkward in his hands that were used to handling swords, but he got a grip of it quickly. And as they worked their way through the corn, Delilah started speaking.

”I moved here two years ago. It was a hard start. I had nothing but my herbs and vials. The villagers didn’t trust me, called me a witch among other things. But then I healed the alderman’s wife from the yellow fever. He gave me the goats as a thank you. From then on I got more patients, even from the nearby villages. Of course, some still believed I had to be a witch because I know more about medicine than any of their midwives. Asked for love potions and curses. Had to shut that down quickly, before word got out and I got chased out or worse. But it’s not so bad now. Most of them still don’t like to associate with me, but I got my goats for company, and I’m busy with collecting herbs and making salves and potions anyway.”

Geralt didn’t know what to say to all of that, so he just inserted an occasional ”Hmm” and that seemed to be enough for her. He tried to ask about the Witcher who taught her about potions, but she quickly shut those questions down.

”Don’t be too curious witcher, or I might just throw you out.”

It was a baseless threat, but the pain in her eyes was enough to shut him up. They spent the next day in a similar manner, Delilah doing chores and grinding herbs to make potions, and Geralt helping, wherever he could. She examined him once more in the afternoon and gave the okay for him to leave the next day, although, in her words ”As your healer, I would be happier if you rested for a few more days.” She helped him prepare for the journey, stacking his saddlebags with enough food for weeks, no matter how much Geralt insisted he didn’t need it. She also restocked his potions, and Geralt wasn’t even surprised that she could replicate every one of them, although he didn’t try to pry her secret out this time. He didn’t want to sadden her, not everything she just did for him. When the night came she brought a bottle of wine to the table and poured two cups.

”Curtesy of a patient of mine, for curing his rheumatics. And it’s the good kind, not the shitty wine they drink around here.” 

Geralt took a sip of it, it really was good. He watched as Delilah put more wood on the fire, and then he realized that he hadn’t even thanked her. The first human to be genuinely kind to him in years, and all he was is grumpy and intrusive. Nice work, Geralt. He cleared his throat. He was never good with words.

” I wanted to thank you. Not many people would have done the same thing for a witcher.” And a butcher, too, but that went unsaid. ”If I can do anything to repay you, don’t be afraid to ask.”

Delilah made a dismissive gesture with her hand.

”I’m a healer, this is my job. And don’t worry about repaying me, I’ll call for you if there should be any evil broonies around the house.”

Geralt nodded and they kept drinking, mostly in silence. Delilah was already on her third cup when she spoke.

”It was my brother.”

”Who?”

”The Witcher you have been asking about. The one who thought me about your potions and secrets. He was my brother. My twin, actually.”

He didn’t expect that. He thought maybe a lover or someone who was indebted to her, but a brother? The only family witcers had were other witchers.

”You know what they say about those who share a womb, that there is a special connection between them. It was true for Gawin and me. We played together, we pranked others together, we even had our own little language. We were inseperable. Then, when we were eight, a griffin started killing off our sheep. My mother hired a witcher, but she didn’t have enough coin. So she offered him Gawin. I begged for her not to, but my father was long gone and she had two other children to feed. I never forgave her. So the witcher took him. Mother told me to forget about him, that he won’t return, and even if he did, he won’t remember us. Well, he did remember me, even those horrible grasses couldn’t make him forget me. When he found me I was working at a brothel. My younger brother threw me out because he needed the house for him and his wife, and I needed to eat. Gawin beat the panderer into pulp and took me with him. We traveled the Continent together. I couldn’t help him kill monsters, so I learned how to heal him, how to make camp and sharpen his sword and negotiate prices with aldermen. He was always worried that that kind of life didn’t fit me, offered to find me a nice house somewhere on the coast, but I wouldn’t change it for anything. Those were the best years of my life.”

She went silent and downed the rest of her wine. Her hand was trembling on the cup. The sour smell of sadness filled the air. 

”Then he died. It happened during our sixth your on the Path. It wasn’t even some monster or sorceress, it was just stupid, ignorant humans. I couldn’t even burry him. I wanted to get revenge. I could have. I could have poisoned their well or burnt down their wheat-filled, but there were children, I couldn’t hurt them. So I left. I traveled some more, how to heal properly, not just witchers, but humans and other creatures, too. Then one day I had enough of traveling, and I got to this village, and I thought, it was as good as any other village to settle down. And you know the rest.”

Geralt awkwardly put his hand on hers.

”I’m sorry. He must have been an honorable man.”

”He was. That was his doom. I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to make our last night together such a sad one, but I haven’t had the chance to talk about him in a long time. You can’t exactly go around parading that you are a witcher’s sister, can you? They might tolerate a witch, but a witcher’s sister? No way.”

She refilled their cups and handed it to Geralt.

”But let’s not dwell on my sad story, let’s talk about something happier. Tell me about your adventures, the ones that end in success and saved lives.”

Geralt never liked telling stories, especially not his own. But he wanted the sadness to disappear from Delilah’s eyes, so he did. He told her about the troll who left the town after Geralt solved his riddles, and the one time he saved a little girl right from a vampire’s grip. He told her the happy ones, not the many where he was too late, or too slow. And it seemed to help because by the end of it she was smiling again, and it reached her eyes, too. By the time they finished the bottle, it was the middle of the night. Delilah put the bottle away and returned with two small vials that smelled like linden and mint.

„Drink it. It gets rid of the headache we would have tomorrow.”

It had a pleasant taste. After drinking it, Geralt started to get ready for bed. He expected her to do the same, but when he turned around she was standing there in her nightgown, and the sweet smell of lust filled the room. The flames illuminated her body, and her perked nipples showed through the fabric. Geralt’s throat went dry.

„I’m sad.” Said Delilah as she walked over to him ”And I’m lonely. I have been lonely for such a long time. No one touches the witch here. And I know that you are lonely, too. Let’s make each other forget about it for one night.”

She climbed on top of him, pressing him into the mattress. Geralt ran his hand through her hair and held a lock of it to his nose. It smelled like her herbs. Then finally Delilah bent down and kissed him. There was no hesitation or fear in that movement, and Geralt felt like her taste and smell drove him crazy. He tried to flip her around and get her under him, but Delilah stopped him with a gentle touch on his shoulder.

”Let me do all the work. We don’t want to aggravate your wounds.”

When she started moving on top of him Geralt couldn’t suppress a groan. It had been so long since someone willingly touched him, someone who wasn’t reeking of fear or who he had to pay. So he shut out the world for one night, and there was only Delilah and him. He learned what she liked, what made her scream with pleasure or giggle. He made her smile, he made her come. And he lost himself in her body.

When he woke up Delilah’s body was missing from beside him. Her body left its mold on the sheet, and her smell still lingered around the room, but she wasn’t there. He sat up, his body pleasantly aching. There was a note on the table, with a box of vials.

” _ Good morning, Geralt. I went herb picking, I won’t be back until noon. I already harnessed Roach. These potions should help with your healing, take one from the green ones every morning for a week. And the blue ones are good for the sleeplessness you have told me about. I wish you a safe road on the Path. _

_ Delilah _ ”

With messy letters, one last sentence was scribbled on the bottom of the page.

” _ I hope Destiny brings our roads together once more. _ ”

Geralt smiled and instead of throwing away the note he carefully folded it and slipped it into his pocket.

**Author's Note:**

> Lately, I have so many ideas for Witcher fanfics! Check out my other one, if you liked this, an angsty fic about Lambert called When the son returns:  
> https://archiveofourown.org/works/27919240  
> Your view and opinion on my fic matter a lot! Please leave a comment!


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